Getting Away

My wife of nearly 36 years is quite clever. The other day she texted me out of nowhere with this observation:

“Hey, I have next Monday off. Any chance we could swing a Valentine’s Day weekend out of town?”

The woman knows me better than I know myself. She knew exactly what would happen. Her text was the equivalent of waving a red flag at a bull. She knows that there is nothing I enjoy more than spontaneous, last minute trips away. Sure enough, the next morning I sent her a text of my own informing her that we were headed to this place:

It’s out in Giles County near a little town called Pearisburg. That’s the New River at the base of the hill. There are great restaurants within 25 minutes, fun stuff to do all over the place. All that was left to do was get in touch with our dog whispering friend, Becca, who as fate would have it was available and thrilled to get to spend three nights with Miss Lucy.

Pam has put up with a lot from me over the years. In so many ways we are total opposites. My odd personality quirks frustrate her. My lack of organization skills, my inability to focus, my aggressiveness and lack of appropriate caution all befuddle her. The existence of this blog for the past ten years has been a source of endless anxiety...Good Lord, what has he written now?!

But, it’s not like I have brought nothing to the table. When I came into her life she was assured that it would never be boring. I’ve done alright in business. I’m a decent vacuumer, and although I never do it to suit her, I wash the dishes after dinner every night. That’s gotta count for something! 

But, my finest husbandly virtue is that I can take a hint. If this beautiful woman wonders aloud whether or not it might be possible to go away for the weekend, I don’t have to be told twice.

I win at life!